


Fallen

by Dank_keroppi_13



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angels, Christian Imagery, Fallen Angels, Fluff, Gay, Heaven, I REGRET NOTHING, I hate myself, M/M, Memes, Pure, and you cant stop me, cursing, cursing because i edited my school version, ezra is a meme machine emo, ezra is an emo, gay fluff, i am incomprehensible, i have never seen supernatural in my life, if you're still reading hit the dab lik wiz khalifa, love me, panic references again, possibly blasphemy i wouldnt know, spoiler alert i am a little shit, spoiler alert the guys dead, spoiler alert this is gay, surprisingly not supernatural, this is so cheesy, what even is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 16:25:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18035075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dank_keroppi_13/pseuds/Dank_keroppi_13
Summary: gay dead boy meets gay angelplot twist dead boy is also an angel owoit's goodit's guccilove me pleasei wrote this for school(also accidentally made it a metaphor for suicidal thoughts and how friends(boyfriends in this case) can help you out of a dark place





	Fallen

Henry Baxter was completely and utterly tired of Paradise. Day after day, that ancient utopia just kept going. Nothing ever changed, still just “perfect”. He had been dead for...what was it? Oh, yes, 34 years now. And still counting. Sure, he could do “whatever he wanted to”, but that wasn’t really much. Sighing, he opened up his rulebook.

Code of Conduct of:  
Heaven  
1\. No sins. (Pride, wrath, etc.)  
2\. Be happy :-)  
3\. Do not under any circumstances cause others to be unhappy.

Then came the dress code. He had memorized it word for word.  
“No clothing that could offend your fellow deceased souls in Heaven! That would cause people to be unhappy. And we wouldn’t want that, now, would we?”  
Then came the filler. Many, many small technicalities. They made the book pages upon pages long.  
No reincarnation, no communication with the living, no traveling between afterlives without authorization. And more.

As he was flipping through, a segment caught his eye.  
Grounds for expulsion.  
He slammed the book shut. He couldn’t keep living this way, not with pages upon pages of rules, forceful and sickly-sweet happiness, boring routines, and the fact that he was not legally allowed to cry.  
Henry Baxter had made his decision. He was going to hell, and he wasn’t looking back.

“I want a working microphone, a notebook, a pencil, and a ukulele,” he said, and they appeared on his perfectly comfortable bed. He would miss being able to do that. But there was no backing out of this. Henry went to work and kept going for an hour, writing and humming and thinking. He slept early; it was going to be a long day tomorrow.

Henry woke up at dawn and took in the picture-perfect expanse, tinted with the pink and orange and gold of the sunrise. He floated out of his luxurious house with his supplies in his hand, a message in his head, and determination in his heart. He took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the consequences to come, for there would be many.

Henry Baxter closed his eyes and began to sing. It was his own composition, and, in his own opinion, it wasn’t too shabby. He sang a ballad of loss and betrayal and sorrow, bitter and warm tears, pure rage. He sang of his old memories of dear life and his dear mother; and he sang of his death at the far too young age of twenty-one. Thousands upon thousands of souls heard his melody, and, one by one, they began to weep. Henry had awoken memories of death and famine which had lain dormant for decades.

At long last, he fell silent and opened his eyes. He was in a different place, but it definitely wasn’t hell. Far from it, actually- it was more beautiful than before. Marble palace walls stood before him, grand and terrifying. The ceilings were impossibly high, several chandeliers hanging almost helplessly on display like executed prisoners at the gallows. A council of angels walked in, simultaneously, from doors he hadn’t even had time to notice. One was still drying his tears.

They chanted in unison with one soothing, calming voice. It was almost like a sedative. “Ordinance three has been broken. Perpetrator: Henry Lewis Baxter.” One voice, one mind. Or so it seemed to Henry until one angel stepped forward. He was a young, pale, slender, and fairylike man with caramel colored hair, deep honey-brown eyes, and those elegant yet all too familiar wings. Symbols of authority. His eyes were glassy, almost artificial. He started to speak in a silvery and clear tone, like the cooing of a dove. Henry began to feel irrationally happy. That was new. 

“Hello! I’m Ezra. Listen, I understand you. I know you didn’t want to make all of those poor old souls cry...in fact, I know exactly what you were going for!”  
Henry stammered. “I… You...you do? Then…”

“Of course I do! You wanted to share your absolutely ethereal art with everyone! A true creator…” Ezra beamed. Henry blushed, and absolutely hated that he was doing so.  
“Thanks, I- wait, what?”

“I’m afraid the rule was still broken, however. But don’t worry! Since this is your first offense, we’ll just send you to the Light Chamber for a little while. It’s nothing much, everything will be okay!” Ezra winked.  
A wave of debilitating heat shot through the room, and, with it, Henry was gone.

Henry was curled up in a fetal position, in extreme pain. Just like old times. He woke up in yet another strange room. It wasn’t much of a room really. It was white… Only white. “Nothing much,” he said in a chilled whisper. There was nothing. Only blinding blankness and desperate thoughts. 

He stared at the sterile, prim, and terrifying vastness. Only one thought swam through his head, over and over. I have to get out. No matter what it takes. Henry inhaled in a feeble attempt to calm himself, but his breath was still shaky. 

He took a step forward, unsure if he even remembered how to move. He broke into a sprint, going nowhere in particular. But no walls could be found. He noticed the smell for the first time. Artificial and ominous. Sterile and chemical. It was just like...  
He froze in his tracks. The hospital.

Henry was only nine years old when he witnessed his dad beat his mom to near death, and then to actual death the next night. It was not the first time and it was not the last time that Henry would see those horrifying, drunken eyes. He was only thirteen when he started living on the streets, no one left to take care of him. He was only nineteen when he fell sick. He was only twenty-one when he made that trip to the hospital and was never discharged, instead being taken to the gates that he would come to hate. He had walked into those colossal gates, asked for his mother, and hadn’t found her.

He remembered the patient records. He remembered the white rooms and the cold soup. He remembered seeing for the first time the pale, flawless faces. He remembered the lack of the only one who loved him. He remembered the crippling debt that would never be paid, the pitiful looks on all the faces, the tears like fire and ice.

And it was ice that came then, slow ice. Glacial ice. Freezing him from the inside out, crawling in slowly and gently. Ice like that morning, outside the hospital on a March day that felt like January. Another blink. The scenery changed to that warm, comfortable palace. It wasn’t supposed to be comfortable. But he had made it out, and that was all that mattered.  
Ezra was the only one here this time. 

“Welcome back! It’s me again, ya boi. That was...wow. I didn’t even know humans could do that.”  
He laughed nervously. 

What could an angel have to be nervous about? And was that...? No. There was no hint of sympathy, no softness in his cold yet inviting eyes, Henry was sure of that. He had definitely imagined it.

“How much time was I in there?”  
“Oh, a day.”  
“A day? As in 24 hours? That was...fast.”  
“Not for me, I had to watch you freak out while the others were on break.”  
Henry blushed. “Well, I’m sorry for the inconvenience. Clearly, it is my fault you had to do your job.”  
The stately angel couldn’t hold back a giggle, a real one. “Pff, you broke the law!”

Henry wasn’t going to let down his guard...at least not yet. His joking voice lowered many octaves.  
“I guess, but I had my reasons.”

The angel looked suspicious, which made sense.  
“Reasons besides music?”  
“Totally. Also, what happened to your voice? You were so...peppy before.”  
“Ever heard of a ‘customer service voice’? Yeah, we’re not even immune to that up here.”  
“Damn. You’re pretty convincing.”  
“Just so you know, I, uh, really liked that song. It’s way better than most of what the living humans make.”  
“It takes pain to appreciate pain. What did you go through?”

Ezra was taken aback by that bold statement. He turned red, and his distinguished façade fell apart. “I-Why would I have any reason to feel things like that?”  
“Maybe you’re like me?” Henry pried, hopefully.  
“No offense, but heck no. I’m a 100% glass half full, ‘puppies, sugar highs, and dreams’ kind of person. Well, angel.”  
“Suuuuuuure. You love my song about pain and anger and bitterness, but lord forbid you feel it yourself. That would be imperfect and improper, wouldn’t it?”  
“I would totally say something sarcastic to you right now...if I had it in my sweet, innocent, positive heart,” teased Ezra. Light seemed to shine out of those amber and syrup eyes that seemed much more real now.  
“Oh, shut up, Mr. Sunshine. You’re probably an emo anyway.”  
“...Yeah, pretty much.”

Henry took a deep breath.  
“Listen, this might be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in this entire afterlife, but do you really want to know why I’m doing this?”  
Ezra cocked an eyebrow.  
“As those sweet young children say, ‘spill the tea.’”  
“I’m breaking the rules, as many as I can, on purpose. I want to go to Hell, and I don’t know why. I’m drawn to it. And...I hate this place. It’s structured and terrifying. And my mom’s not even here, so what’s the point?”  
The immortal seemed to change into a different being; colder than Henry had ever seen him.  
“...Insert the Lord’s name in vain here. That’s intense, disruptive, and rebellious; I’m not getting mixed up in it. Also...mama’s boy.”  
That set Henry off.  
“Ugh. Listen, you know my life. You have her files. You can help me! You know what happened, can you at least tell me why my mother isn’t in Heaven? And we can partner up. You can recommend expulsion once I break more rules, and I can refrain from reporting any flexibility of your laws. Maybe we can be a power...”  
He was this close to saying “couple”, but stopped himself just in time. It wasn't his fault this guy was flawless. It was almost by design.  
“Uh, duo. Power duo. That’s the word. So what do you say? Wanna be my partner in crime?”

“...Okay, I’ll look up her files. Alice Fern Baxter, right?”

“Jackson. She never changed her last name.”  
Ezra’s face lit up, and he began to...sing?  
“‘Climbing out the back door, didn’t leave a mark; no one knows it’s you, Miss Jackson...’”  
Henry just stared. “What song is that?”  
“It’s a human song called ‘Miss Jackson’, I just remembered it. The rest of the lyrics are...not the best to sing in this particular afterlife,” explained Ezra, a little embarrassed.  
“I don’t recognize it, but I don’t exactly watch what goes on down there. Nobody I care enough about to watch.”  
“I need to show you some songs. And I’ll get back to you with the info.”  
Ezra turned and was about to walk out.  
“Wait!”  
He sighed. “What is it?”  
“Thanks for all this. Aside from first impressions...I think you’re pretty cool. And way more hardcore than you let on.”  
“Thanks. You’re not bad yourself, for a human. You...fascinate me, Henry. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there are some new people to greet.”

Just a day had passed. Henry decided it would be a safer bet to wait until he had information to strike.  
He was eating his breakfast with newfound zeal, anxious to find out what his mother had done.  
This time, when he found himself in the palace, he was excited.  
That quickly dissipated.  
“Henry, your mom kinda sorta...cheated on your dad.”  
The deceased man paused.  
“That’s it? What else could she do? My dad was horrible!”  
“I know! I really wish I could do something, but it’s still adultery. Commandments and all that jazz.”

“If you can’t do that, what can you do?” snapped Henry. “You can cause me pain and you can tease me. You can look flawless and sound flawless and be warmer than almost everyone I knew during life. You can put me in a room and leave me to relive my trauma on my own, trauma that you... you knew about. You can call me a mama’s boy; you can call me whatever because you know I won’t report you. You know everything and you can do everything except help.”

Ezra was stunned into silence. He could easily tell someone about the negativity. He could easily get Henry exactly what he wanted now, but he didn’t want to. Something was missing in the picture.  
“Don’t go,” he managed to whisper.  
“Why shouldn’t I?”

“I...I don’t have a reason for you to stay. Just...please?”  
His voice almost cracked with a sob at that last word. 

Henry broke.  
“I’m sorry for everything I said. I just...I can’t handle this place anymore. I want to stay with you, I really do. But I can’t take it.”

Ezra took a deep breath, steadying himself.  
“I can’t help you get your mom here. I wish I could. But I can help you with your plan. Even if it means goodbye forever, I’ll do it. I can find out more about past cases and what it’s taken to get to expulsion. I can access information, even if I can’t change the rules.”  
“You have no idea what that means to me. Thank you-“  
Ezra cut him off. “Yes, I do. I could read your thoughts in the Light Chamber.”  
“Isn’t that an invasion of privacy? Is that allowed?”  
“Allowed? It’s protocol... and I can’t say I like it that much.”  
“So you felt my pain and panic?”  
“Not just yours. Henry, I...the reason why your song resonated with me was that something’s been missing. For a while, actually. I used to be complete and feel complete. I’ve lost something, but I don’t know what.”  
There was a silence then, as that’s what usually comes when truths are revealed. Henry was yelling at himself in his head. "Why did I lash out? I don’t want to hurt him, he’s the only one I trust!"  
But what was done was done, and Henry cleared his throat.

“So...what’s it like being an angel, anyway?”  
Ezra smirked. “Take a look at me and then answer that. I’m perfect.”  
“Hey, isn’t pride a sin?” quipped Henry.  
“I’m joking, I have no idea how to describe it.”  
“You’ve done this for millennia, try a little harder.”  
“Fine. Um... The days pass by really fast for me. I’m surrounded by people the same as me, and yes, it is as trippy as it sounds. Of course, my “flawlessness”, as you so tactfully put it, is a perk of the job.”  
Henry flushed. There it is. Henry, you know better.

The archangel sighed wistfully. “It’s been so long since I’ve felt as great as I did on that first day of existence... Henry, I think I know what’s missing. I never connected with any of them. They’re coworkers. That’s why I’m so...empty,” he spat.

“Seriously? You’re the farthest from empty I’ve ever seen. You actually care about what I have to say, you’re involved, and you’re interesting! And you definitely aren’t the same as the others, I can tell,” protested Henry.  
“Maybe. I’ve said too much, okay? Let’s drop it. Allow me to echo your question: What’s it like to be...you?”  
“I’m so glad you asked. You have no idea. It all started when I turned four…”

Both boys were deeply invested in the conversation, tuning any and all other thoughts out.

“And that is why I’m scared of geese.”  
“Valid.”  
Henry’s eyes widened suddenly. “I’m so sorry. There are other things you should be doing right now, instead of talking to me. I’m really sorry I kept you for so long.”  
“Huh? Oh, don’t be sorry! It’s really nice talking to you, and I can spare all the time in the world.”  
“Ezra, I can’t thank you enough for helping-”  
“Hey, what was the thing you said earlier about not being able to see yourself in mirrors? Is that a thing for all dead folks?”  
Henry shrugged.  
“I suppose so. How do you see me?”  
The brunette didn’t hesitate for a moment.  
“Your eyes are cobalt and lapis, your hair is like ink-”  
“Woah, slow down, Shakespeare. You’re out here making me sound insanely hot, which is a mistake on your part.”  
“Is your self esteem really that low?” asked Ezra, concerned.  
“Yep.”

What commenced then was an awkward pause in conversation, as is often the case with new and old friends alike. It was more comfortable than awkward, however. For the first time, Henry didn’t have to shout or even say anything to be heard.  
Of course, the conversations ended, but they always resumed soon enough.  
Days turned to weeks, and both men were more genuinely themselves than they’d ever been.  
That all changed with a few offhand remarks.

“Henry, I don’t think you should go forward with your plan.”  
“Oh, now you wanna change my mind?”  
His tone was joking, but he was worried.  
“Yes. You don’t have any idea what it’s like down there. I don’t have any idea. And once you go, you can’t come back.”  
Henry scoffed. “As if it could be worse than here. I just want to leave everything here behind me,  
ya know? Forget my past. A little heat never bothered me.”

 

“I’m here. I’m the past. Are you going to forget me?”  
Ezra sounded hurt.  
“Well, you are part of the dystopian government,” Henry said, chuckling. He was oblivious to the tone of the other man.

Ezra raised his voice. “So now I’m the antagonist? Me, and not the beings in power making me do this?”  
“You said three sentences to me and then made me have a mental breakdown. Consider the possibility that you were the antagonist from the moment I met you.”  
“You’re right, I did do that. I did, and I can do it again.”  
Henry’s voice wavered. He spoke his next sentence in a low, defensive snarl.  
“You can and you would. I know it.”  
“Maybe,” the angel said, and immediately knew it was a mistake. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry, forget I said that.”  
“Never mind ‘leaving my past behind me’, actually. You’ll find I don’t forget that easily.”

Phase two was a go.  
Henry didn’t have anyone to hold him back now.  
He was an idiot to think an angel could ever genuinely care.  
And he was an idiot to get attached.  
He had all the time in the world, so at least he hadn’t wasted too much.  
Still, it was a pity. He never was going to hear the rest of that song.  
“Let’s see, what’s a good sin to start with? Ooh, how about wrath?” Henry said with a mocking tone. He definitely had enough wrath to go around.

He soared up to that familiar cloud, on a mission.  
He then proceeded to yell out every curse word he knew.  
To whom, he didn’t know. His father, Ezra, Heaven itself, it didn’t matter. He just wanted to leave.  
This time the palace was the most welcome sight he had ever seen. 

His face quickly fell when he saw Ezra standing in the hall, alone.  
“Hey,” Henry said coldly.  
Ezra took a deep breath, steadying himself.  
“Hey. We’re headed to Purgatory, and you don’t need to say anything, I know I messed up. And trust me, I would not do that to you ever again. I just got so caught up in- whatever, it doesn't matter.”  
Henry felt a twinge of guilt at this, but brushed it off. “Okay. Let’s go. Anywhere is better than here.”  
They appeared in a gray expanse, shadows and grass all around them. 

“There’s something I need to tell you.”  
“So this was your plan? Apologize and expect everything to be okay? No. I’m getting out of here. You know what that Light Chamber did to me.”

“Henry, wait.“  
“What should I wait for? You? You’ve told me everything I needed to know.”  
“I did some more...unauthorized research and I found some information that you...really should know.”  
“I’ve been here 49 years, I probably already know it. I’ve memorized the code of conduct as well. Is this a trap or something? Is it illegal for me to know?”  
“No. I found a logbook. Your older records.”  
“What are you talking about? You already had my records! You know everything about me!”  
“Henry, please! Just trust me!”  
“Why should I trust you? You work for the place I’m trying to escape, it’s your job to be friendly, and the first time you met me you made me have a panic attack!”  
Ezra looked hurt. “I know all that. Just listen to me? Once?”  
Henry relented. “Fine. Make it quick.”  
“Henry...you’re not human.”

“What? No! Of course I am! I was born to human parents, wasn’t I?”  
“You’re not human. You’re a Fallen Angel. I should’ve known from all the way back in the Light Chamber... humans can’t free themselves. I convinced myself I released you at the correct time, but...you did it on your own. You reversed the heat of the portal with your energy. Did you feel cold when coming back?”  
“I...I did. I was so, so cold, Ezra. But how can I not be human?”  
“I can’t tell you that. I’m sorry. I cannot tell you; you have no idea what they’d... wait. I can’t tell, but the rules don’t say that you can’t find out for yourself, maybe in case of a grave accident? A misplacement?”  
A smirk spread across both men’s faces simultaneously.  
“Ezra, did you just bend a law?”  
“Oh, gosh, I did. What am I gonna do if they find out...”  
“I am so proud of you...!”  
Ezra beamed.

He produced a thick record book.  
“Well, I have to go do my work! Don’t get into any trouble!”  
He made a show of dropping the book, complete with an exaggerated wink.  
He disappeared.

“Oh, wow. A book! I wonder what’s in it!” Henry struggled to hold back his laughter at the absurdity.  
Henry skimmed the contents of it, until he came to a certain name. It hit him like a subway train.  
Josiah.  
“Type: Angel  
Status: Fallen  
Crime: Dissent  
Notes: Due to a faculty member’s mishap, was incarnated into the human world rather than being made a Fallen. Dubbed ‘Henry Lewis Baxter’ by human parental units.  
Procedure: All memories of him as an angel should be wiped. Send to Hell in case of human death.”

Henry dropped the book out of sheer shock. It landed with a painfully loud clap.  
Ezra reappeared. “Oh, I dropped my book! I sure hope someone didn’t read the contents... oh. Yeah.”  
Henry’s face went red. “Josiah is a shitty name and dissent is a stupid crime,” he said in a low, dangerous voice.  
“I wish I could’ve remembered you. I really do,” whispered Ezra, tenderly.  
“I know. Maybe we were close. Maybe there are memories left? One or two?”  
Ezra’s eyes grew watery and desperate. He raised his voice. “I’m sorry! I can’t! I can’t remember you, and I want to more than anything. I want to remember you. I want to have known you for eons upon eons, Henry, and I know I did. I want you to be in my memories. And you’re not, and I don't know if I can handle that.”

"Well, who needs memories? I’m here now. Aren’t I?" said Henry in a calm and soft voice.  
“I, uh, suppose you are. Please forgive my little meltdown-"  
“Of course I won’t forgive it, it’s the real you. What’s there to forgive?”  
He stared deeply into the angel’s maple eyes.

Ezra sighed.  
“You’ll get what you wanted now. You can go, all it takes is sharing the contents of this logbook. Boom. Done. All your dreams will come true. As the children say, 'Yeet.'”  
He hid his bitterness behind halfhearted finger guns.  
Henry’s heart soared, and then crashed back down.  
“What if those aren’t my dreams anymore?”  
“What?”  
“Think about it. We could get rid of the evidence. Things could be just like before. I can find some random human kid to watch, just for the sake of having someone. You can show me all the music you said you were going to show me. I can teach you how to play the ukulele. I’m not leaving you behind.”

“Wow that’s... super illegal,” said Ezra, flustered.  
Henry tried to hide his disappointment.  
“You’re right. So when will you show-“  
“I’m so in. Partners in crime, right?”  
Henry’s eyes widened.  
“Partners in crime. And heaven’s power couple,” he said, too quickly to correct himself.  
“Couple, huh?”  
Henry blushed bright red. “Um...”

Ezra stepped forward. He then leaned in and closed the small distance between the lips of him and the fallen angel, the man with eyes like lapis and a spirit like a hurricane, slowly and sweetly.  
He broke away, feeling what could only be described as intoxication.  
“...Nice,” said Henry, not knowing what else he could possibly say.  
“Should we be heading back? I need to show you my favorite songs. Now.”  
“Relax, you’ve got all the time in the world. But you're totally free to sing them for me on the way.”

Henry Baxter– no, Henry Jackson was completely and utterly tired of rules. But Paradise itself wasn’t so bad, not anymore.


End file.
